Mount & Blade: Lady of the Desert
by MalignantProxy
Summary: Lady Zhali is the wife of Emir Raddoun. Among the other female nobility of the Sarranid Sultanate she is an outcast, far too masculine, far too respected, even among some of their Husbands she courts martial and political favor. Among the vast kingdoms beyond the Sarranid borders, she is fondly remembered by crowds of cheering arena spectators as The Lady of the Desert.


Chapter 1 – The Maiden

The road to Reyvadin had been long and cold across the northern tundra. Many nights had Noelia thought the paralyzing cold would claim her as it did a few of the Caravan. She had come from a land far to the north, a land much like Calradia, wracked with warfare and the troubling ambition of royalty. Noelia had been a noble there, her father was an astounding Duke on a part of the grand Kingdom of Rosuphenia. The word.. was, it drifted through her mind making her head shrill up with debilitating thoughts of sadness. She had seen the fire that night, it had only been her fathers quick thinking that saved her. Not him though, the flames had clamed the whole family save her. It had been a few gruelling weeks of exile, hiding amongst the low-born denizens of Rosuphenia that Noelia had heard of the land to their south, Calradia. Trade south was rather hard, no traders would brave the tundra swarming with outlaws from both continents and the seas were very nearly always frozen over.

In her sheer luck, she had managed to find a lone caravan that was heading out with various refugees towards the distant land. Though still in possession of a small wealth of coin, she also carried with her a dagger, christened with her family seal, marking her as a noble, and a sword, her fathers sword. She clutched now to the pommel of it as it flapped beneath her fur coat. She had arrived in Reyvadin, the Capital of the Kingdom of the Vaegirs during the night, renting herself a room at the local inn. While she had settled in her room, the night drew on her thoughts of home, and though her body clamoured for sleep she could not abide its wishes. She strode out into the empty streets of Reyvadin, a chilly yet noticeably warmer wind blew through the encroaching claustrophobic streets. She calmly walked the streets of the city, and to herself she hummed a soft lullaby from her childhood. 

_The tundras are white, sky's dark as night,_

 _the land it howls, a sort most fowl,_

 _for the dawn is drawing near._

 _The Sun plays its role, in warming the knoll,_

 _and soon the spring has come._

 _Once white, now green, they glisten and gleam,_

 _for the day is oh so clear._

Her voice crept out from her lips, the song brought a smile to her face. Soft vestiges in the very early dawn of the day, light crept keenly from the horizon. She admired it, her hazel eyes casting a warm beloved gaze as the colours of the sky turned a familiar shade. An disillusioned view of hers had always thought the sky was different in other parts of the world, it calmed her to know she was always under the same shroud of sky. A breeze blew against her bare neck, once protected by a long well kept mane of hair, now discarded for the look of a commoner, short and wavy like a farm hands. She went to draw the hood of her cloak to protect her from the elements, but stopped partially. The sound of the wind had sought to conceal a hair twinging sound, the sound of a blade sliding from its scabbard. Her hand went fast to her own sword, she spun around pulling on its hilt, though in her untrained awkward motion managed to lodge the sword partially in its scabbard. A man stood, amused at her attempts to arm herself.

"'ello there las'. What'sa pretty lil' thing like you doing with summin' like that, eh?" The man asked, a falchion like blade fastened in his hand, the edge gleaming in the morning dew.

Noelia didn't respond, after struggling with her own blade, she managed to get it out. How she had managed to do so with only one hand ringed in her mind as she very nearly dropped the sword, its weight dragging her arm down as she swooped it up in an awkward double handed hold. She wasn't trained in swordsmanship, any woman of nobility barely saw a blade leave its scabbard while around them, nevermind having to defend herself from a lowlife.

"Aw.. is da' sword there too big fer ya?" The man said, taking a step forward. "Maybe ya'should give it to me, I got one tha's just the right size for ya."

"S-stay back! I'm warning you! I'm trained to use this weapon!" she said, stammering out an obvious lie. A lie the man chuckled at, a repulsive sound in and of itself. He didn't even hesitate, he immediately began walking towards Noelia, closing the distance with a confident aura about him. She was his loot, and there was most likely nothing she could do to stop him from his plunder.

Such conclusions were done away with in Noelias mind, she would go down fighting if she was to at all. As the man came into range, she threw all her strength into an overhead swing, the blade moved fast it Noelias eyes, she was sure she would land a blow on the man. The clamouring of the weapon tumbling to the ground woke her from her delusion. The man had dodged, striking the weapon from her feeble grasp. She turned in time to wrench in pain as the blade of the mans falchion dug beneath her robe and dress, slicing diagonally across her chest, between her brests and out from her left shoulder. She screamed for but a moment before a balled fist struck her harder then she imagined possible across the face. It wasn't a disciplinary strike like he had received a few times in her younger days, but a hard brutal strike. She tumbled to the ground, disoriented, her face swelling from the blow and her fair skin bruised and bloody. She could feel blood seeping down her chest, her breasts and abdomen now exposed to the elements as the tatters of cloth were now separated.

She lay still on the cobble streets of Reyvadin, she could feel the man tugging her in a direction, soon the walls of houses constricted her obscured view. It was an alleyway. Her eyes began to water, she knew what he planned to do. Her body ceased functioning, she could not command it at all. After a few more moments of dragging she saw the mans vile face appear in front of her. A grim snarling smile clamouring at his face.

"Well shite, you look like ya just been hit by a brick shit'ouse. Oh well.. best get to th' fun bits before the watch starts patrollin'. I wus gonna bring ya back to the den for the lads to hav'a'go but I think it's best if i's just you 'n' me." He said, his rough hands caressing Noelias face, slipping beneath the tatters to fondle her wounded body. She could feel him rummaging around, the sound of cloth ripping more and more echoed in her ears as she slowly drifted to unconsciousness.

Noelia awoke somewhere warm, her body numb but still in working order, she could feel thick fabric draped over her and could hear and smell the telltale elements of a fire which crackled close by. Her vision blurred into reality, she gazed up at the ceiling through one non-swollen eye and one partially shut one. She barely moved, her chest ached with fierce dull pain, a large portion of it feeling physically tight in comparison. After a few moments she heard a distressing sound, the thunk of a cup or goblet being placed back on a table top. Her mind raced back to her encounter before unconsciousness and in an adrenaline fuelled rush she sprung up into a seated position on the bed she had been lain. She scanned the room quickly with her one good eye, spotting a unfamiliar man, certainly not her attacker seated in the corner. His hair was greying, the signs of age wracked his features. He wore what she assumed to be a chain-mail chest piece, a sword sat upright next to him, leaned against the nearby wall.

Her quick movement had startled herself and the man who was seated across the room from her, his aged eyes snapped wide as she accelerated to her seated position. They stared at each other for a seemingly endless moment, Noelia's breathing rapidly increasing as her mind raced. She only ceased her hyperventilation when the wound on her chest flared up wildly, causing her to clutch her chest in a sweat filled agony. She hadn't heard the man move, but she soon found aged hands on her left shoulder and back easing her back down to the sheets. Her chest lay bare, though it was quickly covered with diligent movements of blankets.

"Now, now young lady. I'm sure my presence isn't the most calming after what you've been through but I assure you, you are safe here. Just lie still, else you'll reopen that nasty wound on your front and I'll have to call the apothecary back to redo the stitching." The older man said, tucking Noelia back into the bed. She began to worry again, her heart racing slightly before she caught herself.

"H-how did I get here... all I remember is that man.. he was.." she began to tear up silently "Did he.."

"Hush now child. You needn't worry, me and a few lads in the tavern heard your cry, we found you just before that bastard... we chased him off, he could barely hoist his trousers back up. Slippery little jackal." The old man recalled.

Noelia's heart eased, a relief spread through her. She giggled quietly before the sound grew louder, her relief turned into hysteria. She had almost been violated, almost been killed, she had just barely escaped one death and had fallen into another. She wept now, a solemn shrill weep that scratched at the walls with despair. The old man did nothing, he let her cry openly, it seemed not to bother him at all.

Noelia sniffled, slowly coming back from the depths of sadness she had suffered all at once. She turned her attention to the man, one question clear in her mind.

"Who are you, and where am I?" she asked plainly, eyes still balled in tears.

"My name is Arnathame, I'm an old retired mercenary, though I head a small group of vigilantes that keeps the towns folk safe. You're currently in the home of a good friend of mine, Rasgeer, he's a local merchant. Him and his brother run a small Caravan from here to Rivacheg. We brought you here when we found you bleeding in the alleyway. I hope you don't mind, we stripped you down, discarded your old clothes and got you a decent set from one of the neighbours whos wife had something in your size."

He recounted, gesturing to a small bundle of clothes on a nighttable near the bed. Among them was Noelia's family dagger, as well as her coin purse that still sat rather full. Her eyes relaxed, but then began scanning the room for her remaining item.

"Ser Arnathame.. I don't mean to be a bother.. but did you happen to find a sword in the street near where you rescued me?" Noelia asked, continuing to scan the room for it.

"Well.. My Lady," he said, giving a apologetic half bow "I'm fairly certain I saw that cretin run off with a sword in hand, though not the falcion he left behind, it was most likely the blade you seek."

Noelia twitched internally with anger. That whoreson had assaulted her, nearly raped her, and now had made off with her fathers sword. She looked up at the ceiling of the house for a few distant moments before returning her gays to Arnathame.

"Ser Arnathame.. you said you were a retired Mercenary, correct?" Noelia choked out, struggling with her dulling chest pain.

"Yes, M'Lady."

"So you have suitable combat experience?"

"Yes, M'Lady."

Noelia smiled deviously.

"Then.. once my wounds heal.. could I trouble you to instruct me in the art of swordsmanship?"

Arnathame seemed set back by this, most likely never thinking he'd be asked to teach a woman, nevermind a lady of nobility a martial art of war.

"C-certainly M'Lady, but might I ask why? Its unheard of for noble women such as yourself to ever brandish a blade, especially in these lands." Arnathame stammered out.

"I'm afraid I'm not from these lands Ser Arnathame, and since I no longer have anyone to direct my life for me, I've decided my own path for the time being." she said trailing off.

"I'm going to find that whoreson, and I'm going to get my fathers sword back."

Arnathame whooped, not only at the sure gaul of the young woman's words of assertiveness, but at the fact a woman of nobility had freely used the term "Whoreson"


End file.
